Missing Her
by raccoonsmate4life
Summary: Despite the late hour and Hetty's encouragement to get a good night's sleep, Deeks is awake now and doesn't exactly feel up to going to their room to face their bed alone just yet. Even though they have only slept there a handful of times, it already doesn't feel right without her. Tag to 8x04 - Black Market.


_Just something that came to me after Hetty told Deeks to go home and get some sleep._

 _As always, I own nothing._

* * *

He's out of the car and trudging through the sand before he even fully realizes that he drove himself to the beach instead of home. His subconscious must know that he needs the fresh air – probably more than he needs a good night's sleep. As Deeks stands at the water's edge, he takes a deep breath and stares out into the vast darkness in front of him. He tries to let the sound of the lapping waves calm his inner turmoil, but the usually-trusty ocean is failing him tonight.

As he lowers himself cross-legged onto the sand, he drops his elbows to his knees and his head to his hands and lets the tears fall. The days and weeks of trying hard – maybe too hard – to remain positive and cheerful when he sees Kensi, and when he's at work, and even when he's alone, are wearing him down. He is mentally and emotionally exhausted and all he wants is for her to wake up. He wants to look into her mismatched eyes, wants to feel her lips against his, and wants to hear her voice. He wants to propose to her for real.

Remembering the ring that is still in his pocket, he thinks about how differently he had pictured things going from the moment he picked it up in that parking garage. The nice dinner, the walk on the beach, on one knee at sunset – that's what should have happened. That's what was _supposed_ to happen. He should be trying to find the perfect beach location for their wedding while Kensi should be trying to convince him why they need to invite over a hundred people to their "small, intimate" nuptials.

She shouldn't be in a coma, her full prognosis unknown until she wakes up. Just as he shouldn't be sitting in that uncomfortable hospital chair every morning and every night, carrying on countless one-sided conversations.

The staccato vibration from his phone pulls him from his woeful thoughts. Looking at the screen, he sees a short series of texts from his mom.

 _I get into LAX around 10am tomorrow.  
Don't worry about picking me up, I'll get a cab to the hospital. _

_You told them I was coming, right? So I can get in to visit Kensi?_

Deeks runs his hand through his hair and sighs. He's really glad that his mom loves Kensi and wants to be there for her, and for him, right now. But he knows that the doctors and nurses at the VA hospital are not ready for Hurricane Roberta to come storming through. If he's being honest with himself, he isn't sure he's ready for it either.

He takes a deep breath and pushes himself off the sand, brushing it from his jeans, and makes his way back to the truck. Since he's already part of the way home, he figures it won't hurt to make sure the guest room his ready for his mom and maybe he'll even get some sleep. Just as he is about to return the phone to his pocket, it buzzes one more time.

 _I hate this, Martin. I really hate this._

He taps out a quick reply, tears welling in his eyes again.

 _Me too, Mama. Me too._

* * *

When Deeks walks into their house fifteen minutes later, he'd almost forgotten about all of the boxes still littered everywhere. Boxes with Kensi's handwriting scrawled all over them. The house had only been "home" – _their_ home – for a week, before they had to go to Syria. A week before the helicopter crashed to the ground, taking whatever fragile certainty there was about their future down with it. They've both spent more time at the VA hospital than they have in their new house.

It's mostly her stuff in these boxes – the ones he had packed were emptied and put away within two days of them moving in. Kensi's version of packing is just as disorganized and chaotic as her desk – he isn't even sure why she bothered labeling the boxes. After he'd finished unpacking his half of the boxes, he'd tried to help with hers and almost immediately gave up. When he found a box labeled "books" that also had her dad's medals, a random throw pillow, and her makeup in it, he laughed and she told him not to bother helping. She had promised him that she would handle the unpacking of her boxes by herself.

Deeks wonders now if he should try to go through some of them, so that their house is ready for her whenever she is able to come home – assuming they'll have more important things to focus on – but in some weird way, he's afraid that doing so will mean that he's given up hope that she'll be coming home anytime soon to follow through on her promise. So instead, he leaves all of the boxes where they are and heads towards the kitchen.

Despite the late hour and Hetty's encouragement to get a good night's sleep, Deeks is awake now and doesn't exactly feel up to going to their room to face their bed alone just yet. Even though they have only slept there a handful of times, it already doesn't feel right without her. He debates grabbing a beer out of the refrigerator and drowning his sorrows out on the patio underneath the stars, but he decides against it, knowing he wants to be able to head back to the hospital if he needs to.

He looks around the darkened, still-unfamiliar house and hates how quiet it is. Monty has been staying with Kip, although with his regular season starting soon, Deeks figures he may need to make new arrangements for the scruffy pooch. He makes a mental note to ask his mom if she'll mind taking care of him, since she has promised to stay for a little while.

After a few more minutes of feeling out of place in his own home, Deeks resigns himself to the idea that he should try to get some sleep. He heads upstairs to their bedroom and his breath catches as he stops in the doorway. Their bed is still unmade from the last night they spent here and his heart hammers in his chest when he remembers _why_ it's unmade. That last morning they woke up together was the same morning he left early to meet up with his connection to pick up Kensi's ring. She was still half asleep when he kissed her on the forehead and told her he would see her at work. In true Kensi fashion, she obviously hadn't cared about the tangled mess of sheets and blankets when she got up a little while later.

Reaching into his pocket, Deeks takes out the ring to inspect it for what feels like the thousandth time. _It looks a lot better on her_ , he thinks to himself, wishing it was still on her long slender finger, even though she hadn't even known it was there. He knows he should probably stop carrying it around everywhere, but part of him wants to have it at all times so that whenever she does wake up, he has it to give to her. The cliché, romantic plans he'd been making in his mind seem completely insignificant now. As soon as she comes to, he won't be wasting a single second before asking her to marry him.

The light from the small bedside table catches the diamonds as he puts the ring back in the envelope he's been keeping it in. Sighing, he places it next to his badge and weapon. He'll decide what to do with it in the morning.

Stripping down to his boxers, he climbs into bed and runs his hand over the empty space beside him where Kensi should be. Then, almost subconsciously, he reaches for her pillow and hugs it to his chest and inhales deeply. The faint scent of her that lingers is an unexpected comfort as he feels sleep pulling him under quickly.

As he nods off, he whispers into the stillness of the room, "Come back, Kens. I miss you."


End file.
